Pop Star || Yoongi x Reader

1. In a Stormy Florida Airport, We Meet

"Wait. I don't understand," you say as you flip your straight black hair to stare at your manager full in the face.

"It's a hurricane warning, Y/N. There's no way we're getting a flight out of here today." Your manager, Monica, answers without looking up from the tab she's working on. She doesn't say it but you sense an implied 'I told you so' there.

"Yeah, but aren't those warnings issued, like, way in advance?" you complain.

"They are, usually," Monica responds, "I did tell you two days ago to be ready for it."

You're sitting cross-legged on a plush sofa in the VIP waiting room of Palm Beach International Airport. A peach t-shirt over a pair of white joggers, sneakers and headphones complete your airport look for the day. In contrast, Monica is dressed in her usual dark pantsuit. She still gives off the vibe of a lawyer fresh out of court even though she hasn't practised for years. She's busy adjusting your schedule considering that you are going to be stuck in Florida for another day. You scowl at the dark thunderstorm raging outside, the lack of visibility visible through the glass wall of the lounge. A little fear cuts through your annoyance as the ferocity of the winds and rain make their impression on you.

The spacious lounge is rather sparsely populated at present. There's your team - you, your manager, her assistant, and one security personnel. There's only one other group of people in the room - a quartet of semi-formally dressed men with another quartet of security detail. You wonder who it is to afford that big an entourage. You deduce that out of the three, a young man in a black mask is likely to be the key person. He's Asian, with hair the color of chestnut, sitting with one leg crossed over the other and interlinked hands resting on his knee. Head slightly tilted back and eyes shut, he looks peaceful and also a little cool. Maybe it's the eyebrows - they're arched in a proud way even in their neutral state.

An airport official enters the VIP lounge and addresses all of you sitting there.

"Can I please have your attention?"

That wakes him up - unfortunately for you - because the moment he does he makes eye contact with you. The look is icy. As if it wasn't awkward enough to be caught staring at a stranger. You turn away instantly, frowning at his subtle hostility. But fine - it was your fault to stare.

Meanwhile, the officer continues, "For your safety, we advise you to move to another room right now. There is nothing to worry about, we're only doing this as a precaution. I apologize for the inconvenience this will cause you."

"It's alright, ma'am." You address her, getting up from your seat, "You know these storms more than we do. We'll follow your instructions to the T." You wear a gracious smile, masking your annoyance at the situation pretty well.

As you leave, you notice the guy from before hoisting a guitar case - that doesn't necessarily make him a musician though - you think to yourself. He's dressed too formally anyway.

The officer leads you a few floors down. You enter a hall that, you realize with dismay, has a few hundred people packed together. The atmosphere is tense and the whispers are irritating. There aren't enough seats to sit on, so it is pretty chaotic. You sigh. This is going to be a long night. The officer takes you to a secluded corner with cold steel seats. One row is occupied by your team, and the other by the other men.

You're sitting face to face with the masked guy again. You wonder briefly what he looks like under that mask - and for the second time, he makes eye contact with you, raising an eyebrow.